


Pieces of You

by WetSammyWinchester



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mutants, Empath Jared, M/M, Meant To Be, Mental Institutions, Pyrokinetic Jensen, but in a really angsty way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2019-02-09 04:41:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12880383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WetSammyWinchester/pseuds/WetSammyWinchester
Summary: Being a firestarter has never made Jensen’s life easier. He thought he’d have to give up so much - memories, family, freedom - to keep his life and powers in control. Meeting Jared may change all that.





	Pieces of You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [liliaeth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/liliaeth/gifts).



> Thanks to artist [liliaeth](https://liliaeth.livejournal.com/) for her beautiful digital art of Jensen which I was lucky enough to share with another writer ([art masterpost here](https://liliaeth.livejournal.com/500542.html)). And a big thanks to nerdygeekypastrychef, anotherwinchesterfangirl, soy-em and samshinechester for all their support and ideas!

“Jensen, hon, just take the pills.” 

The nurse holds out the little plastic cup, rattling the pills in the bottom. 

He sits up obediently with a half-smile, taking the pills and the water glass that are held out to him.

Some days are good days; other are not. After the dreams come, his head pounds. He knows he needs the medication but his throat and stomach clench up at the thought of swallowing all of them down. 

The assortment of blue and white and yellow pellets at the bottom of the Dixie cup stare up at him expectantly and he sighs.

Kim lifts her chin at his hesitation, and he tosses the pills and water down. Outside his window, a finch lands on the window ledge outside beyond the bars and watches him with bright eyes. Sometimes he leaves his old bread crusts there for the birds and this one seems to know that and lets out a few soulful notes.

He gives a smile at the birdsong and Kim pats his cheek. “That's my boy.” 

She sweeps back out of the room with her rolling cart and her white crepe-soled shoes. Jensen usually finds comfort in Kim’s morning ritual of plastic cups and prescription meds, but not today. His head pounds and his tongue is dry and sticks against the roof of his mouth. He sits on the edge of his bed, rubbing a hand through the top of his hair. The dream he had is already fading but he can still feel the heat from the flames on his face. 

He looks down at his fingertips and sees a glow flare briefly behind the swirls of his fingerprints before it dies down leaving him with a tingle at the end of his fingers. 

Not a good way to start the day. But at least there’s coffee.

\-----

The breakfast crowd at Hornwood is already buzzing in the cafeteria, and he grabs a tray and gets in line behind Chris, who is looking up and down the buffet. “Hmmm, powdered eggs and limp bacon, my favorite.”

His best friend grins and tosses back his shoulder-length hair. “Forget the bacon, there's fresh meat this morning.”

Chris nods over to a tall guy hunched over one of the tables. Shaggy dark hair that curls up at the ends covers the guy’s face, and his white scrubs cling to his broad shoulders and down his long legs. Jensen tilts his head as the new guy picks at his food with his fork, which looks toy-like in his large hands.

Chris leans in. “Told ya. Fresh meat.”

“Don't be such an asshole, Chris.”

“Don't be such a priss, Jenny.”

He bumps Chris’ shoulder and the cafeteria worker behind the counter gives him a suspicious eye as they make their way down the line. Their usual table sits on the far side along the windows. Sometimes other patients will sit with him, but not usually when Chris is around, and this morning, Jensen is alright with that. He holds the cup of coffee under his nose and closes his eyes. Hornwood might serve soggy eggs and overcooked bacon, but damn, the coffee is good.

When Jensen opens his eyes, the new guy is staring up at him from under that hair. Tilted hazel eyes like a cat, high cheekbones and a strong jawline. His pink lips have fallen open and it’s a lovely image. One that stirs something at the back of Jensen’s mind, like a passing sense of deja vu. He itches to run back to his room and grab his sketchpad to capture that face. He must stare a little too long, because the guy’s eyes go wide and he smiles at Jensen. 

Dimples. Something about them along with the curve of those lips is so familiar, and he starts to smile back but Chris whacks him in the ribs with his elbow. “Stop making heart eyes. Guy's probably a psychopath.”

Jensen starts to defend dimple guy, but then hesitates. People come to the Hornwood Institute with all kinds of mental problems or whacked-out powers they can’t control. 

And pretty packages can hide some serious damaged goods - he’s a good example of that.

\-----

“Jensen, you're awfully quiet this morning.” Dr Ferris turns to face him where he sits to the right of her in the circle. “Bad night?”

He shrugs at the question as six other patients in the group stare at him. Overly bright eyes like a bunch of squirrels on a picnic table wait to devour his trauma like a nut in their small grasping hands. Some days group therapy feels like a contest and it exhausts Jensen. He scratches the back of head and looks down at a spot on the ground between his feet, wishing a hole would open up there and suck him down. 

“Just bad dreams again,” he mumbles before falling silent.

“If you want to hear about some really awesome dreams--” Chad says, stretching the big red rubber band that he carries everywhere between his fingers. Dr Ferris said it keeps Chad occupied, focuses his energy so he doesn’t accidentally freeze someone again. 

A snort sounds across the room and Jensen looks over Chad’s shoulder to see Chris on top of a table against the wall. Chris rolls his eyes back so far he has to lift his head. “Oh for Christ’s sake--”

“Chad, we’ll get to you in a minute,” Dr Ferris interrupts. “Jensen is going to tell us about his dream.” 

He wishes he had the power of invisibility like Tom, or maybe he could cause a rip into another dimension and squeeze through like Mike. Instead he squirms in his seat and rubs at his left palm. “It wasn't that interesting. Same old thing.” 

A kitchen. Blinding flames. Screams and crying. A monster waiting. The usual.

It's more a memory than dream, and Jensen senses that. Something that happened in his childhood but when he tries to remember more, the whole thing slips through his fingers like water, and that fact eats at him more than the horrible heat and panic of his dream.

Dr Ferris opens her mouth but is interrupted by movement at the door to the therapy room. Kim knocks and ushers in the new guy, who is looking like a giant lost puppy. 

“You have a new member of group this morning,” she says. She shoos him over to the chairs. “So, everybody be nice. This is Jared.” She watches long enough to see he’s settled before before marching back out the door.

“What's up, gigantor?” Chad yells, “How tall are you exactly?” 

Jared laughs and ducks his shaggy head, as if he’s charmed by Chad being an idiot.

Jensen sits up in his chair, free to move now that those animal-bright eyes are on the new guy, and he watches Jared move across the room. The way this giant of a man folds his body into the small plastic seat makes Jensen think of human origami.

Jared’s long legs stretch out impossibly long and are crossed at the ankles, which are bare where they peak out under his scrub pants. That flash of tan skin looks obscene and inappropriate against the white material, and Jensen can see the veins on the top of Jared's feet where they dip into the white canvas slip-ons. Probably not the most sanitary thing, wearing those shoes without socks, but--

“See something you like, Jenny?” Chris says, hopping down off the table. 

Jensen throws a nasty look across the room at his friend, and Chris makes an obscene gesture with his fist as he walks behind Jared’s chair, but no one else seems to notice. He catches Jared’s eye across the way and the new guy is staring as if Jensen is an unicorn or a mermaid walking on land, and he blushes under the attention.

“Welcome, Jared.” Dr Ferris taps on her clipboard with her pen to get everyone’s attention. “All right then. Jensen was about to tell us about his dream.”

He hangs his head down. There is no escape from this miserable day.

\----

_It was Jensen's old kitchen from when he was little. The yellow flowered wallpaper is dated and there is a stand-alone range with the coiled heating elements on the top that he knew better than to touch. He would sit on one of the stools at the island, feet dangling down, while the kitchen would fill with the smell of cinnamon rolls._

_But there is noise and anger, and he can see the baking pan where it lay flipped on the floor, balls of raw dough stuck to the wood floor and bits of nuts that are scattered everywhere. The wall of sound makes him cower under the island’s lip and before he can stand up, the kitchen is swallowed by flames. He can see the shadow of another person, their face indistinct. Someone is screaming his name, but it’s tough to shout back over the crackling sound of the heat eating at the wood of the cabinets around him._

_He is small and afraid, and choking on smoke._

_\-----_

“Hey, sunshine, time to wake up.”

He startles awake to find Kim at the side of his bed, plastic cup of meds dangling in her hand. His head is pounding for the second day in a row and the brightness of the flames from his dreams is leaving flashes behind his eyelids. Already the kitchen and the memory are slipping away.

“You okay, hon? Sounded like a bad dream.”

He takes the cup she offers with a weak smile. “Fine. I'm fine.”

“Sure, Jensen, you’re fine.” She gives a crooked smile and hesitates before pushing her cart out. “You know if you need anything, just ask, okay?”

His smile is a ghost, but it's enough to reassure her and she walks out to finish her rounds. Between the nightmares and the fuzzy effects of his meds, it's amazing he can crawl out of bed. 

The flames aren’t fading as easily as they used to, but the other details about the kitchen are lingering, and he holds onto them as he changes into a clean pair of scrubs.

\------

He reaches for the last cinnamon roll on the buffet line at the same time as the new guy. Their fingers touch and Jensen can feel a tingle go up his arm. 

“Sorry,” Jared says, pulling away. “Please, take it. I have a problem with sugar anyway.” He smiles and ducks his head, grabbing a bagel instead with fumbling fingers before retreating to sit at the nearest table.

When Jensen turns around, he sees Chris at their usual table on the far side of the room, feet up on a chair. Chris is protective of Jensen and can be persistent about it, which is a great thing for a best friend but not so great when there’s a buzz of a headache sitting under his scalp, so instead Jensen detours to follow the new guy. 

At least Jared seems quiet. And cute. And interested. That's always a plus.

“Anyone sitting here?” Jensen asks, his palms slick beneath the metal tray. Some of the inmates prefer to eat by themselves like Tom who has an annoying habit of lining up the peas or rice at the side of his plate while he fades in and out of sight, or Michael who can send people into another dimension when he sneezes. They come back a few seconds later but Jensen likes to keep a polite distance from both of them most of the time.

“Sure.” Jared half stands and waves at the seat, like he's some kind of Texas gentleman. Jensen snorts at the gesture then feels lousy when Jared blushes to the tips of his ears. 

“Man, good manners are wasted on this crew.” His dimples peek through before he begins to poke at his eggs again like they have personally wronged him for the second day in a row.

“Most of the people here aren't so bad - well, except for Chad.” His nose wrinkles up, as he pulls the plate with the cinnamon roll off his tray. It's still warm and gooey, with icing dripping off the sides. He cuts it into two perfect halves and pushes the plate towards Jared. “Here. We can share.”

The smile in Jared’s eyes makes him unreasonably happy, and he could make a home in the dimples in his cheeks. Jensen starts to speak when a shadow falls across the table and a warm hand squeezes his shoulder. 

“Looks like you boys are getting along.” 

Dr Morgan’s voice is a comforting deep rumble and it's one of Jensen's favorite things about this place. Chris teases him about daddy issues, and looking up into Jeff’s dark brown eyes and those crinkles in the corners when he smiles, maybe Chris is right. 

The doc extends his hand across the table. “You must be Jared. Dr Morgan - I head up this place. Glad to finally meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Jared stares at the outstretched hand. An awkward moment passes before shakes it with one pump, and then hides his hand below the table.

Dr Morgan’s hand returns to Jensen's shoulder, kneading the muscles there.

“Kim mentioned you're not sleeping well. Do you need something to help?”

He's been down that rabbit hole before of taking more and more drugs, chasing anything that will make him feel better, and it never helps in the end. Jensen shakes his head. 

Dr Morgan moves his hand to Jensen’s neck and squeezes once more. “Well, we can talk about that later.” 

Already the doc is walking away and waving at another patient, and Jensen’s neck feels cool and exposed. When he turns back to the table, all of Jared’s smiles are gone and he is watching the doc’s back with intensity.

Jensen looks down at the two perfect halves of the cinnamon roll. He pushes the plate at Jared once more, hoping to distract him from whatever took away that smile. “Here, this is for you.”

Jared smiles at the offering but hesitates. “Jensen, can I ask you a question—“

“What's up, bitches?” Chad slides into the seat next to Jared. “Ooh, cinnamon roll!” He grabs for it but Jensen catches his wrist, giving it a mean twist and bending it back as Chad howls.

At the touch, Jensen's head begins to thunder like a herd of horses. His fingertips begin to glow orange - and he thinks of how the fingerprints show up black against the orange of the rising heat like burners on his mother cooktop - and pushes them into the soft white skin of Chad’s wrist, satisfied by the yowl he hears.

“Fuck you, shithead! Look what you did.” Chad is babbling and holding his arm out, where there is a strip of burned skin around his wrist with blisters already surfacing.

The thundering in Jensen's head makes it feel like his skull is going to burst open any moment and Chad’s shrieking doesn't help. The heat from his hands is beginning to course up his arms and shoulders, shooting into his neck. This is just the start. This is how it feels before terrible, awful things start to happen.

He presses at his temples with the heels of his hands, immune to the heat, and listens to Jared try to calm Chad down. At some point, the yelling stops but Jensen can't look up, hunched over and locked into his own world of nerves and pain.

“Let me help you.” Jared’s voice is soothing in his ear and once again, a feeling of familiarity hits Jensen’s gut. Jared’s long fingers wrap around Jensen's wrists to pull them down from his face. And in a flash of blue, the pain is gone. Cool relief washes over him like stepping into a shower after a long run. The pain and pressure sluice away, leaving him clear for the first time in days, and he shakes his head, waiting for its return, but he feels good, really good. 

Jared lets go of Jensen’s wrists and then crumples to the ground, his face white and breathing swallow.

“Somebody help him!” Jensen thinks he is the one yelling but it doesn't matter. He drops to his hands and knees beside Jared, checking for a pulse in all the wrong places when Dr Morgan pushes him aside to check. 

After holding his fingers to Jared’s neck, Dr Morgan seems satisfied. He then holds up Jared’s arm to examine a mottled red circle of skin.

Jensen scoots backward. Because it’s not possible. Those are the same marks as Chad. Exactly the same. But he didn’t touch Jared, not like that.

He stumbles to his feet as Dr Morgan directs the nurses to attend to Jared and he sees Chad at the front of the crowd that's gathered. As he approaches, Chad flinches back.

“Don't touch me, asshole!” 

Jensen grabs his arm to look. Chad’s skin is pale and untouched and Jensen runs.

\----

_The smoke is filling the kitchen and a shadow moves across his vision, blocking out the flames for a second, and he looks up._

_That's when he sees a flash of white underneath the kitchen table. A boy his age is huddled there, long brown hair that is singed at the tips and tilted eyes full of tears. Jared. He tries to call out, to tell the younger boy to run, but no words come out._

_Jensen wants to be brave, to stand up and move across the floor, because the two of them need to get out. Courage drives him from his hiding place but he runs into the shadow, which is solid and full of real muscles. It’s too big and he can't push it aside to reach Jared. He pounds his fists against the grey--_

\-----

Meeting Dr Jeff Morgan six years ago was one of his first good memories. It was a turning point. At the other facilities, the therapists and doctors felt bad for him - the little orphan boy with big green eyes and the power to start fires - but at some point, that pity turned to fear. When a fire started in the game room, another guy had pushed him down, the hospital staff locked him in his room for two days, only opening the doors to slide his meals through. Listening through that small slot of steel, he knew there were whispers of sending him to The Division. 

That's when he met Dr. Morgan. The big doctor with his salt-and-pepper beard and sad smile unlocked his door and sat on the bed, listening intently to Jensen’s story. Those dark brown eyes didn’t show pity, only understanding. 

He touched Jensen’s arm and asked if he wanted to come to Hornwood.

“I think I can help you.”

That first week, Dr Morgan changed his medication and introduced him to hypnotherapy. It seemed harmless enough and Jensen seemed to gain more control but started losing chunks of his memories. He didn’t realize it at first as little bits and pieces seem to scatter from him, but soon his childhood was a bright white hole of nothing but flashes inside his dreams. When he mentioned it as a side effect to Dr Morgan, he got a shrug and a smile. 

At the time, it didn’t seem like a bad thing. A trade-off for a few old memories for control of his powers made sense. Now he wonders. Maybe there’s a reason for his dreams to bring it all back up again, to force him to remember.

Sitting on the end of his own bed, he wonders what Dr Morgan will say. How he hurt Chad and Jared. He didn’t mean to - well at least with Jared he didn’t mean to - and how the power punched its way out. The doc will probably up his meds but if they can’t control it, there’s a chance that they will move him. The Division has secure locations for people like him with powers they can’t control themselves. He’s seen the agents himself, their black suits out of place in the hospital, leading the other people like him - the broken and the dangerous - out in the dead of night and they are never mentioned again. 

Jensen will do whatever it takes to stay, memories or not.

Thinking about yesterday, Jensen’s not sure what he saw exactly and that’s bothering him even more. The marks were around Chad’s wrists and then around Jared’s. Behind his closed eyes, he can see the blistered skin and feel Jared’s shallow pulse under his fingers.

In the end, it doesn’t matter. It’s his fault.

Dr Morgan will be disappointed and Dr Ferris will tell him to talk to someone about how he feels, and he doesn't want either of those things. All he wants is someone who will tell him how to stop it from happening, how he can stop hurting other people and live a quiet life.

The hours pass and Jensen doesn't leave his room. The doctors and nursing staff are busy in the hallways outside while all of the patients are in lockdown. He wishes he could sneak out to find Chris or Jared. Despite his bitching, Chris is the best person in an emergency, knowing the right thing to say or do to calm Jensen down.

And Jared? Jensen’s only known Jared for two days and it’s complicated. He feels protective and attracted and… and… He looks around the room as if his feelings will be written on the walls. Selfish. That’s the word he’s looking for. He wants to spend more time with him and get to know him. Hell, Jensen's already dreaming about him. 

But that vision of Jared as a crying helpless child tugs at his mind. It’s at odds with the muscular guy he was eating breakfast with, and the friendly guy who was laughing with everyone in group that day.

After Jared touched him and his head cleared, he felt a sense of peace that he’s never remembered. Jensen can think only about how he wants more of that. The touch. The sense of peace. The guy behind it all. 

Whispered voices from the hallway float into his room and he tip toes to the door, peeking around the corner. Halfway down the empty hall, Dr Morgan and Dr Ferris have their heads tilted together.

“--he’ll be fine. You've seen how he heals,” Dr Morgan says. His hand sits on her shoulder, a reassuring gesture that Jensen recognizes, but her lips are turned down. “Do you know what this means, Sam?” 

Jensen never heard her first name before and smiles. Dr Ferris tries to be a hard-ass but he knows better. When she doesn’t reply, Dr Morgan grins and looks on the verge of kissing her. “Jared is the answer we're looking for. The key to getting control for Jensen. And their history together? It couldn’t be any more perfect.” 

Her resolve to remain professional seems to breaks down and she shakes her head fondly, and Jensen wonders how he missed this before, the closeness between these two. 

“And the Division? They’ll be notified about this incident.”

“I’ll handle them.”

“I’m sure you will.” She clasps his hand on her shoulder and sighs. “Don't get me wrong, Jeff, I'm glad we have a possible solution. I’m just worried that Jensen might kill Jared before things get better for him.”

Jensen pulls his head back into his room, his heart pounding. _History together? But he just met Jared two days ago._ He waits until he hears their footsteps fade before ducking out the door and running down the hallway.

\----

There is a hum of activity that never leaves the hospital, even at night. The buzz of light and the murmur of voices. But Jensen’s been here long enough to know the quiet spots, where to hide and how to slip away.

He waits inside a linen closet outside Jared's room, tolerating the ammonia smells and dirty mop heads, until Kim leaves with her rolling cart, before slipping in the door.

All the rooms at Hornwood are the same. Jared’s bed is pushed up against the wall, the bed covers a tangle of white sheets and blue blankets. Jared is curled up under covers, so that only a mess of brown hair shows, and his toes peaking out over the side of the mattress. Jensen tucks the blanket around them and approaches the head of the bed as quietly as he can.

Everything happened so quickly in the cafeteria, and he has to see how badly Jared was hurt.

The blanket over Jared's body rises and falls and Jensen is sure that the nurses probably sedated him. He pulls back the corner of the sheet, only wanting a peek at Jared's wrist before he returns to his own room.

“You perving on me?” Jared's voice is soft and slurred, and Jensen jumps.

“I just… your wrist…” he sputters. Jared doesn’t fully open his eyes but his lips curl up at the ends, and his face is paler than the white sheets he lies on.

“It's fine. See?” Jared holds his forearm out for review. 

And it is fine. Jensen takes the offered arm and runs his thumb over the unbroken skin. Except for a slight reddening of the skin, the blisters and burns are gone and Jensen is more confused than when he walked in. He plops down on the edge of the bed, unsure what to say next. 

Normally he’d chalk it up to confusion or the way he forgets things, and believe that his mind made up how bad Jared’s injuries were, if it weren't for the conversation he overheard in the hallway between Dr Ferris and Dr Morgan.

_Jensen might kill Jared before things get better for him._

Before he can decide what to do, Jared's long fingers reach out and wrap around Jensen's wrist, and for a moment, Jensen swears he see a blue light stretch in the gap between their hands. Jensen’s confusion is replaced with contentment, like he has been holding his breath and the air in his lungs is released in a long soft exhale. His shoulders relax and his muscles go lax. 

When his gaze lands on Jared’s, those hazel eyes shine bright beneath his dark lashes. Jared’s brow is now creased, and Jensen settles his hand over the top of Jared’s, stroking his thumb along the top. He can feel his power start to stoke up but it only gives off the lightest of glows.

Peace, he thinks. This is what peace feels like.

“How is it--” 

“You're worried, and upset about your powers. But don't be.”

“How do you--”

“You're easy to read.” 

_To read? Telepath. But that wouldn’t explain the burns he got from Chad._

“Empath,” Jared says, and it makes sense now. The quick healing, the feeling of well being. Jared is able to share his energy, repair other people’s damage, but it comes at a cost.

“Jared, I need to know something—“

He stops speaking when Jared's eyes begin to droop again. The paleness of his face has been replaced with a healthy pink, and Jensen can’t resist laying his hand on Jared’s cheek. The stubble is scratchy but Jared’s cool skin feels good against the warmth of his palm. He fights the urge to take a kiss from the pink lips he first noticed in the cafeteria, and to crawl between the sheets and share his body heat because Jared needs to rest right now.

“Do something for me,” Jared mumbles. “Stop taking your pills. Then maybe you’ll remember me.”

Jensen leans in, unsure he heard the last part right. After what happened to Jared, he can’t mean that. If it weren’t for his pills and the therapy he gets from Dr Morgan, Jensen would be in a locked cell under Division control. He can’t face that. At the same time, he feels compelled to answer Jared and make him happy.

“No pills. I promise.” 

Jared squeezes his hand once and then begins to snore.

Jensen can't help but smile at the snuffling sound. He runs a hand through Jared's hair, and that surge of affection and protection shines bright at the touch, clearer than anything he's felt in a long time. He wants to stay to curl up here on Jared’s bed and tuck himself under his arm, but he hears an orderly down the hall and slips out the door unseen.

_Then maybe you’ll remember me._

Jensen should be afraid of how intensely he needs Jared when he doesn’t even know him. He’s had flirtations or crushes on men that he never felt the need to act on. But this is different. He could still feel the peace and calm running through his veins. It was a hit that felt better than any drug and he wanted more.

The problem was that in his world, love can turn so quickly into pain and loss. But no matter what happened today or what he overheard, Jensen knows one thing. He would never hurt Jared. 

At least not on purpose.

***

Two days later, he sits on the ugly plaid couch in Dr Morgan’s office for his weekly hypnotherapy session. 

The best part about his appointment is watching Dr Morgan settle in and it’s the same routine each week. Dr Morgan is a big guy, broad where Jared is tall, and yet he insists on wearing these little reading glasses that he slides up his nose with one finger. He removes his white lab coat and hangs it on the door, rolling his sleeves up his forearms. Before they start, Dr Morgan writes a few more notes on his pad and then looks up. This routine and the doc’s focused attention on him is one of the best things about Jensen's weekly therapy, but today, he glances at the closed door and wants to find Jared who is waiting for him to get lunch together.

Dr Morgan has been trying hypnotherapy for months now, and every week Jensen walks out feeling worse than when he went in. He doesn't see the point. When he wakes up from one of these session, he feels grainy with the buzz and sting of all those angry bees under his scalp and skin.

Now, as Dr Morgan breezes in through the door, Jensen squirms, picking at the yarn of the afghan on the back of the couch, thinking of a million reasons not to be here. The doc grabs his clipboard and sits down next to him, scribbling a few more notes.

“So, Jared’s an empath?” It jumps out of his mouth without thought.

Dr Morgan hesitates then finishes what he was writing on the clipboard. “Can't really talk about that with you, Jensen. You know that.”

“Well, that's bullshit,” he mutters, half heartedly, and Jeff smiles fondly without looking up. Jensen picks at the afghan for another minute. So many questions he wants to ask about what he heard, but he’s skating on thin ice right now. “Could I hurt him again?”

This time, the pause is longer and Dr Morgan looks up to study Jensen's face. 

“Not if you learn to control yourself better.” Dr Morgan pushes his glasses up his nose. “Why don't we focus on your therapy today? Jared'll be fine.”

***

Chris is waiting outside his door when Jensen gets back, and he looks pissed. Arms crossed, his scrub sleeves are rolled up over his biceps and his friend looks ready for a fight.

“I don't have time for this.” Jensen rubs at the bridge of his nose and his head pounds and feels like it weighs too much for his neck to hold it up. He never remembers going under in the session but the part afterwards is miserable.

Chris pushes off from the door with a frown. “Old Jeff messed you up pretty bad this time. Tell me exactly, how are these treatments helping you?”

Jensen ignores him and walks past into his room.

“Don’t act like such a child. Cmon, Jensen, start asking the right questions.” Chris taps his foot while Jensen sighs and then turns around to face him. Chris puts his hands on his hips. “I'm worried about you, and I’m not gonna let you punish yourself for what happened the other day. So, let’s go down to dinner and find your boyfriend.”

***

Jared looks better this morning. He sits next to Jensen in group and turns his chair around with one foot curled up under him and the other foot bumping Jensen's where it sits on the floor, and Jensen can’t stop watching.

Group is chaos this morning. Chad is a constant stream of chatter and Jared laughs at all his stupid jokes, while Tom and Mike keep arguing about something that happened in the breakfast room that morning. Neither one will apologize and no one else cares. 

He tunes back in to listen to Chad’s story about this girl in the last facility he was at who would sneak into his room through the ceiling tiles. Jared laughs but Dr Ferris interrupts and says it’s inappropriate for group talk, and that’s when he notices Jared leaning away from Chad and towards him. 

It’s like an out of body experience as he looks down as Jared's hand touches his knee.

Jensen is not a small guy but those long fingers resting heavy and warm on his leg make his knee look almost delicate. His attention then shifts to Jared’s wrist which is smooth and tan with no sign of the burn from yesterday. When Jared starts to pull his arm back, to turn and talk to Chad again, Jensen reaches two fingers out to stroke the smooth unbroken skin, and he feels a thrum of electricity run between them.

“Did I imagine this?” he whispers.

Jared looks back over at him and smiles. “It was real.” 

Jensen beams back and he finds himself wondering if Jared likes ping pong or watches Wes Anderson movies or reads Tolkien.

“Boys.” Dr Ferris snaps her fingers impatiently, and their heads turn towards her in sync. “If you’re done playing footsies, maybe we can get on with group now?”

\-----

_The dream is mostly the same. The flames and heat from the fire surround him, and the noise is so loud, like a monster roaring and chewing through the wood and something metallic underneath like the twisting of metal. The plumbing, he thinks, the pipes are bending. There is screaming behind him and he knows that voice. It's the one that sang him songs and asked him how his day was. It's the one that whispered good night to him in his bed at night, brushing the bangs off his forehead. Only now it's voice is twisted in pain. He should be glad he can't see what's happening but somehow that's worse. Because then he could say I'm sorry, Mom. He could help to get them out, even though he knows it's too late._

_He spots Jared again under the kitchen table in a flash of long hair and a white sweatshirt now gray with smoke, and he calls out. It may be too late for Mom - he knows that she is already long gone, but his waking mind tells him it's not too late for Jared. But when the boy turns to face him, with tears rolling down his cheeks, it's not Jared._

_Chris! he yells. His boyhood friend looks at him and his heart sinks. Chris was his best friend in Texas. The one he walked to school with. The one he played baseball with. He knows that this is real, not just a dream. The fire continues to roar and he wonders, how could I forget?_

_Chris cries out, one hand covering his ear against the noise and the other reaching for Jensen. He reaches back but a wall of flame separates him and he pulls back._

_Jensen, run!_

“Jensen!” Hands pull at him and he doesn't want them to go up into the flames. Maybe he deserves it, but he won't go willingly. “Jensen, wake up!”

In his mind, he pushes back hard against the hands trying to drag him forward and the screams start again. But they're different this time. Not his Mom or Chris’s from his dream but something new and raw.

His eyes flutter awake and he is disconcerted because the room is glowing and his legs are dangling down, and he realizes it's because he's not lying on his bed but hovering a foot above. Electricity is crackling in the air and the hair on his arms is standing up.

There is a rustle of activity as people run into his room and he flails in the air. The motion cuts off the energy that kept him elevated and he drops with a grunt to the mattress. He pushes away, scuttling back into the corner, the white walls and hard metal bed frame against his back.

Kim is on the floor next to his bed, and the light blue scrubs on the nurse’s arm are blackened and she is cradling her hand where the skin is red and blistered.

_Not again. Not again._

“What happened?” Dr Ferris runs in, behind the orderlies. She is pushing people aside and huddling over Kim on the floor. “Are you okay, Kim? C’mon, let’s get her down to the infirmary now!” She waves over two of the burly orderlies standing in the doorway.

“No, no, no,” he continues to say but no one hears as they work to get Kim on her feet.

Kim hisses when one of the orderlies jostles her. “Not his fault, Dr Ferris. I was trying to wake him up. Should have gotten some help,” she says, and the two women glance over at Jensen.

He's seen that look before plenty of times. Fear and pity. 

They move her out of the room, leaving him behind, and silence fills the room like a vacuum. He runs his fingers through his short hair, pulling at the roots. He wants to scream and yell or run and hide because he is out of control again, but all he can do is wait to see what they do to him.

These things were hidden beneath all the drugs and the therapy. The memories of causing pain were awful but this reality is even worse. The remnants of his power continue to run along the nerves under his skin, running along his spine out to his fingers and toes and back up again, and his heart is beating fast but strong. 

His eye catches on a small plastic cup tipped over on the linoleum floor. His medication lays scattered, a mix of white and blue and pink pills, the ones he's taken every day since he came to Hornwood.

_No pills. Don't need em._

He jumps down and scoops the pills into his hand, and then looks around the room. Everything here is changed or cleaned everyday and would be found in a matter of hours. He could throw them out the window but then the gardener would find them on the ground. Instead, he lifts his mattress off the box spring and begins to pick a hole in the underside, digging into the cheap materials with his nail, until a rip appears that is no bigger than his thumbnail and begins to feed the pills in through the slit, pushing them into the stuffing as far as they'll go. 

When he's finished, Jensen climbs back up on the bed and crawls under the covers. He closes his eyes and whatever surge of power he felt this morning is melting away into a pounding headache. After what happened to Kim, no one checks in on him for hours but he's not forgotten. Someone, probably one of those big orderlies, has been stopping outside his door every fifteen minutes and he would bet that orders are to keep him on lockdown for the safety of everyone.

Once again, someone has been hurt and Hornwood is in turmoil. The drugs and the sessions with Dr Morgan are only making him worse. Rather than wait for the black suits at the Division to pull him out, maybe he should find a way to leave, make his way to some secluded cabin in the woods where he can practice controlling his powers on his own because this isn't working. 

“Leaving is probably a good idea.” He looks up when he hears Chris’ voice and sees his friend standing at the foot of his bed. His arms are crossed but the angry look he usually wears is gone, and the grown-up version of his childhood friend looks softer in the dim light.

“You aren't real,” Jensen whispers. 

Chris shrugs. “Doesn't mean I'm not your friend.”

“What happened to you is my fault.”

Chris shrugs his shoulders. “Shit happens, Jen. What you need to worry about is you right now. You know, that’s why I'm around, to protect you.”

Jensen curls back up on his bed, picking at the corner of the blue blanket. “Is Jared imaginary too?” 

“Nope,” Chris says. “He’s real. And he is part of all of this. Think Jensen. If you can remember me, you can remember him.”

_Jared as the young boy under the table in his dream._

“That’s right. Remember back to Texas. He can help you, but only if the two of you stick together.”

Jensen fights falling asleep again, but his body is exhausted. The energy burst from earlier has faded like a banked fire, cool and grey ashes waiting to be swept away.

Chris will be gone when he wakes up. Jensen is scared of that but he eventually gives in. 

This time, the dreams are good. Jared comes in his room and stands in the slatted moonlight from his window, tall and calm, glowing in his white scrubs like some kind of angel, and he brushes Jensen’s hair back from his face and kisses his forehead.

***

When Kim comes by the next morning, it’s as if nothing happened. Her arm is bandaged but it doesn’t slow her down from rolling her cart down the halls. 

Jensen slept almost twenty two hours straight the night before. His head is clear and he’s been up since before the sun thinking about this moment, about his dreams and what he can say.

Outside his window, two purple finches land on his windowsill. They hop around each other and begin to trill, and heir song is choppy but bright. It looks like the one bird has found its mate and wants to tell the world. Jensen smiles and tilts his head to watch as they hop along the wooden ledge and chase each other, flying off to the garden below.

Kim stops a few steps in the door when she sees that he's awake and dressed. She glances once over her shoulder. His pill cup is in her hand and beyond that the swath of white bandages climbs her forearm.

“Jensen, you're up.”

He stands up and she takes a step back outside the room. “I just wanted to say how sorry I am, Kim. I never meant to hurt you.”

Her face softens. “I know, Jensen.” She starts to hand him the cup but walks over to set it on his dresser instead. Their eyes meet and she gives him a quick smile before dodging back out again. 

***

As he struggles awake, the heat of the flames were still bathing his face from the dream. In his semiconscious state, he feels hands gripping his arms tight.

“No, no, no,” Jensen says, pushing them away. Without the pills, his sense of loss is deep - _his mother, he remembers the dream clearly now and his mother screaming_ \- and then he sees Kim's face overlaying it, twisting in pain. 

The peaceful flow that seeps like water across his skin can only mean one thing - Jared. He wants to give in and be comforted but he can't be responsible for hurting someone he cares about again. His attempts to push Jared away are half-hearted compared to the strong arms wrapped around him.

_I'm just worried that Jensen might kill Jared before things get better._

“Shhhh, take it easy. It's okay,” Jared says as he crawls up, nestling in the pillows behind Jensen. He wraps himself around Jensen's back, their cotton t-shirts clinging in sweat and their blue scrub pant legs rustling together.

“Let me go! You don't get it.” But even as Jensen speaks, his anxiety continues to wick away and he feels calm. Jared leans back against the headboard and tugs Jensen back against him. His legs are like a bracket and his chest and arms are a warm wall at Jensen’s back.

“Don't want to hurt you.” Jensen turns his head and the words are a whisper against Jared's cheek. “Don’t want to hurt anyone again.”

“You won't. I promise.” Jared's kiss is light and soft, and smells of Chapstick, like when they were kids, and it steals Jensen's breath and then gives it right back to him again.

He starts to twist around but Jared pulls him tight against his chest, big hands letting go of Jensen's arms to roam across his chest, palms pressing against his cotton shirt. Jensen lets his head drop back against Jared’s shoulder, groaning while Jared kisses down his neck. 

It’s been awhile since Jensen has let someone touch him like this and he can't remember a time when he felt so safe. Not since he was little. Not while he’s been at Hornwood. But Jared— Jared feels like home.

The kisses distracted him from Jared’s fingers which are pulling up the hem of Jensen’s t-shirt. A shiver runs up his spine when Jared finds his stomach, warm fingers trailing across his skin and Jensen sucks in a breath. Jared begins to hum under his kisses, a happy sound against the pulse in Jensen’s neck, and Jensen finds himself relaxing into the warm V of Jared’s legs.

“It’s okay. I got ya,” Jared says in his ear and tugs Jensen higher against his chest. “You won’t hurt me.” Jared kisses his temple and Jensen looks up, but even in the dark, he can see the shine Jared’s eyes.

“How do you know that?” he whispers and Jared kisses the words from his lips and links their fingers. 

“Because what you want is easy for me. Peace and quiet, your powers in control. I can handle that.”

Jared deepens the kiss, pulling Jensen’s chin up and twisting his head down, strained but perfect as their tongues meet. Jensen has kissed men before, done more than kissed, but they were hesitant or awkward rumblings in the darkened empty lounge while tv shows flickered on the tv or on his knees hiding from staff in the broom closet. But this is different. He doesn’t feel nervous, not while Jared touches him. 

That is until Jared’s cock begins to press against his back. He can feel the heat in his body start to rise - overwhelming desire but more than that, the start of a fireball forming beneath his skin. He squirms inside Jared’s embrace, his cock is filling and his brain doesn’t want to let go, but Jensen knows the danger they’re in right now.

He opens his eyes and sees the yellow glow in his fingers where they are entwined with Jared’s and panic blooms. Of all times for his powers to kick in. 

There is only a moment before he sees the blue. A ring of it surrounds his clenched hand and he feels the cool where it meets his skin. The yellow glow begins to dim to a warm orange. Jensen opens his fingers and there is no fireball and no sparks, only the glow and an ethereal transfer of colors between them.

He finds Jared’s lips again. “What does this feel like to you?”

“Adrenaline. Like I could run a hundred miles.” Jared runs his hands under Jensen’s t-shirt, his long fingers strumming up and then down his ribs to press down along his soft belly. “I can’t get enough of it. Or you.”

Jared sits up and pulls the shirt over his head and throws it on the ground before turning his attention to Jensen’s, yanking it off in one smooth motion.

Jared scoots to lie down flat on the mattress and rolls Jensen on top of him, pressing the bare skin of their chests together. Sheets rustle as Jensen breaks the kiss to trail his lips down Jared's neck, and he swears that he can hear Jared's heartbeat beneath his mouth, a life energy that throbs brightly; a pulse that beats strong. 

He sits up and straddles Jared’s thighs. Their cocks bump together and he wraps one hand around both of them, gasping as Jared begins to thrust into his hand. 

He places his other palm flat against Jared’s chest and the gold glow begins to build again. Jared gasps as the light penetrates his skin, arching his back, but Jensen feels no fear as he watches Jared’s face. 

It’s pleasure not pain that he sees racing through Jared’s body, and Jensen is making that happen. He can touch all he wants and only good things will happen.

The blue glow that begins to emanate from Jared’s body is now familiar and unlike anything he’s ever seen, and it bleeds into Jensen’s gold, creating a thin layer of green where their energies begin to mesh.

“Beautiful,” he whispers.

Jared grabs onto to Jensen’s face between his hands and pulls him down again to bring their lips together. “Yes, you are.”

Jensen moans and pulls his hand free from between them. He is surrounded by Jared’s body and his power and the feeling of pleasure is overwhelming. As Jared begins to thrust up, rubbing their cocks together, he feels heat spread throughout his body.

As he looks down into Jared’s face, the eyes that meet his are no longer the bright hazel from before but glow blue, brighter than the thin corona of energy where the two of them touch that licks at Jensen’s gold.

He’s about to say something when Jared’s grabs the back of Jensen’s neck to bring their foreheads together. “Your eyes— They’re— gold.”

Their mouths crash together as Jared jerks in orgasm underneath him. The intensity of the glow around them escalates in the moment and breaks over Jensen like a wave and he comes right afterwards. 

Their bodies are slick with sweat and their labored breaths fill the room as the colors begin to die down. 

\-----

“We knew each other?” Jensen asks, as Jared comes back from cleaning up in the bathroom. He crawls in the bed and tucks Jensen up under his arm on the small twin bed. He is crammed against the wall and Jared’s side but there is no place Jensen would rather be.

Jared nods. “I don’t remember it all myself. We were just kids. When I looked at you that first day, I just knew.”

The glimpses from his dreams tell him the same. “How did you find me here, after all this time? It can’t be a happy accident.”

Jared smiles as he runs his fingers in the hair behind Jensen’s ear. “Sometimes those are the best kind.” 

He kisses the top of Jensen’s head and lays his head back on the pillow. Within minutes, the soft snuffles start up.

Jensen can't help but close his eyes too, exhausted from all the energy they used and the comfort of a warm body wrapped around him.

No flames in his dreams that night. Instead, he walks besides running water and up the steps to a log cabin in the woods. Jared comes out on the porch and holds out a cup of coffee. Their fingers touch on the mug and he feels that familiar tingle when they touch. A purple finch lands on the porch railing next to him and the birdsong is the only thing he hears as he drifts deeper into sleep.

\-----

He hears the wheels on Kim's cart before he sees her. Then he becomes aware of the arms wrapped around him tight. _Jared_.

“Boys.”

At that, they both scramble up. He sneaks a glance at Jared. Other than the bed head, he looks good - his cheeks are full of color and his hazel eyes shine bright. Jensen is sure he must be a mess but Jared's smile tells him otherwise. He looks down at where Jared's fingers circle his wrist - _we’re a matched set_ \- and he realizes for the first time in years, he feels clear. No headaches, no anxiety, 

Kim has her hands on her hips. “C’mon, Jared, get back to your room. You know the rules.”

“No.” Jared doesn't release Jensen’s wrist. The contact point is warm and reassuring and Jensen doesn’t want to give it up.

Anyone else might feel threatened by Jared's tone and his size, but Kim seems more annoyed than anything.

“C’mon, big guy, I have to give Jensen his pills--” She reaches out to touch his arm and pauses, her fingers resting on the medical ID bracelet around Jared’s wrist.

“No. No pills.” Jared makes it sound like it's his choice what happens here.

She shakes her head and without another word, she rolls the cart back out.

“Jared,” Jensen whispers, “what are you doing?”

A kiss is the response he gets and despite his concern, he can't help but smile back underneath those lips.

“Boys.” A deeper masculine voice this time, and they look up to find Dr Morgan standing inside the door. “Why don't you come with me?”

\-----

The couch is no more comfortable than it was yesterday, but at least Jared is sitting next to him. He wants to reach out and touch Jared’s hand, get a hit of calm, but when Dr Morgan sits down across from them, he grips the plaid cushion between his fingers instead.

Dr Morgan settles back in the chair. “So.” 

Jared moves forward to sit on the edge of the couch. “So.”

Jensen is unable to move watching the two of them. The doctor who saved him those years ago and the empath who has become so important in his life.

Dr Morgan sighs. “We have rules about patients fraternizing. You both know that.” His dark brown eyes catch Jensen’s and they are soft and amused, not the anger he was expecting.

“It’s my fault,” he jumps in before Jared can respond again. “I had a nightmare last night.”

Morgan straightens up. “Tell me about it.” 

“The same dream as always. Except this time I saw her - I saw her face.”

“Who?” Jared asks.

“His mom.” Morgan rubbed at his temple, his shoulders suddenly slumping. “You said you couldn’t see any of the faces before.”

Jensen looked over at Jared’s confused face, remembering how it looked so peaceful when he slept last night, remembering the fear of the fire in his dream. When he turned back to Dr Morgan, he knew the answer.

“I saw Jared there too. Why can’t I remember them?”

Morgan waved his hand in the air as if he would stop the questions coming from Jensen’s mouth.

“It was for your own good.”

“What do you mean, it was all for my own good?” Jensen could feel a flash of heat rise from his stomach until his head felt like a match ready to be struck. His power crept down his arms until his fingertips itched with it, and when he held his hands up, they were glowing orange.

Morgan sprang up from his chair and backed up a step. “Jensen, calm down. We just needed your mind clear and focused on controlling your powers. Those memories were messing you up, upsetting you .”

“So you took them away from me? All the memories of my mom? Of Jared?” A golden ball of flame rests in his hand, flames licking his palm. Despite the grief that is fresh once again, there are no tears. His anger and the fire inside must have burned them all away years ago.

“I wanted to take away your pain, Jensen,” Morgan says, “because when you’re in pain, people die. I wish you boys would trust me.”

A hand settles on his arm and the flame sitting in his palm turns cool morphing into a bluish-green ball.

Jared’s eyes reflect back the vivid color of the flame for a moment before he turns to face Morgan. “And what about me? Why don’t I remember more?”

“I don’t know. I wasn’t part of your treatment. They probably used similar methods? It’s common practice.”

Jared nods to himself as Jeff talks, and Jensen can see him withdraw into his own memories, and the ball of flame in Jensen’s hand grows, writhing and alive, and despite Jared’s touch, it begins to glow like liquid gold.

“We’re not your boys.”

“I know that.” Morgan walks around the chair, his eyes glued to the fireball. “You’re my wards, but you also weapons waiting to go off. Remember what happened to Kim?”

Jensen flinches and a messy flare escapes from the fireball. Jared’s grip tighten around his wrist, the blue glow bleeding into the gold.

“Let me take care of you. If you just listen to me, you can learn to control it. The Division watches our work here and they won’t be happy to hear about the last incidents,” Morgan says. “But I can convince them that by altering your memories and with Jared’s help keep you calm. It was kind of a happy accident putting you two boys together at Hornwood. The way your powers work together and the history between you— “

The punch comes out of nowhere. Morgan is a big man but Jared is long and tall and the single blow from his fist knocks the doctor out cold. 

“Jared!” Jensen’s heart is in his throat and the fireball in his palm disappears, as if the oxygen in the room is snuffed out. Jared steps up to look down at the doctor’s body where it lies on the carpet and Jensen joins him.

“C’mon, he’s fine but we can’t stay here.” He grabs Jensen’s hand and they step over Morgan’s body to run out of the office.

He takes a moment to look over his shoulder.

\-----

The van hits a pothole and jounces Jensen awake. Dirty bags of laundry surround them and remind him of how they are on the run now. Jared still hasn’t moved from where he is passed out, his arm thrown over Jensen, and he reaches up to brush a strand of hair away from Jared’s face, rubbing a thumb against the mole next to his nose, as if it remind him how real he is.

When he looks at that face now, he begins to remember his childhood. The heat of the Texas sun bearing down on three boys riding bikes down the middle of the street. The littlest one with his hair blowing behind him as he rides ahead, giggling as he peddles faster to outrun the older boys.

Jensen looks at the long dark eyelashes that laying against Jared’s cheek and listens to the soft breaths coming out of his mouth. He should be worried about what they left behind, or the way he jumped to follow Jared so quickly. He doesn’t, because this finally feels like home.

Their escape from Hornwood was nothing short of a miracle. Many of the nurses and staff smiled as the two of them fast-walked their way through the halls. Kim was sitting at the nurse’s station enjoying a cup of coffee when they scuttled by. Jensen looked up and caught her eye which was a mistake.

“Everything okay, boys?” she said, standing up, taking another sip of coffee, wary eyes taking in their linked hands. 

“Great,” Jared shouted over his shoulder, “just trying to catch the movie in the lounge.”

She waved her free hand in blessing and Jensen looked back wondering if he would ever see her again. All the time they just kept moving towards the locked doors at the far need of the corridor. 

“Do you know where we’re going?” Their two hands continued to be linked together, and Jensen squeezes.

“Got an idea.” That idea was to have Jensen burn through the security pad on the service entrance and the two of them slip in the back of a laundry van as the two drivers hopped in the front. Hornwood was two hours out from the next big city so they bought themselves some time to think. Or sleep as the case may be.

Jensen settles into the laundry bags again under Jared’s arm and breathes in the clean smell of cotton and borax detergent. Running away from Hornwood could be the dumbest thing he’s ever done or the best thing that’s ever happened to him. It’s easy to run away, but the problem is figuring out where they go next.

Another ten minutes goes by and the truck shifts into a lower gear and applies its brakes to slow down. The change in speed wakes up Jared. He still looks sleepy and a little pale, still worn from using his powers to keep Jensen in check during their escape. Jensen pushes him gently down into the laundry bag and places his palm flat against Jared’s chest and the golden glow from his hand fills the dark cargo area of the truck. 

Jensen has never tried to use his power for good, concerning about the hurt and injury that follows every incident, but with Jared, it’s different. He is feeding his energy to Jared, like giving a man in the desert a sip of water, and for once it feels right. Jared’s eyes go wide and he begins to breathe deeply.

“You okay?” Jensen asks as he pulls his hand away.

“I’m great.” Jared stands up and begins to look around the inside of the truck, sifting through large bags filled with sheets and scrubs, and opening cardboard boxes along the sides. “We need to be ready to get out as soon as they stop.” 

He pauses at a set of hooks inside the back of the truck, and pulls off a pair of coats, tossing one to Jensen. It’s a blue denim jacket with a shearling collar and smells of someone he doesn’t know, but he puts it on knowing the night outside will be cold. As Jared pulls on a green canvas jacket, his attention is drawn to a black backpack hanging underneath it. He takes the bag down and unzips it to find a wallet and phone and a change of clothes. He holds the wallet up and licks his lips in hesitation but the truck jerks to a stop, which seems to break into his thoughts. He pulls the cash out and stuffs it in his coat pocket, hanging the bag back in the hook.

As the truck is thrown into park, Jensen jumps up and grabs the door lever. It flips open and there is a blast of cold from the outside as they step down quickly into a loading dock that looks just the dock they escaped from at Hornwood. He and Jared run for a door that is marked with a red EXIT sign and burst out onto the sidewalk. While Hornwood was situated in the country with perimeter fencing topped with razor wire, they find themselves on a busy city street with people bumping by that don’t give them a second look. An ambulance emblazoned with ST ELDON’S races by with its lights and sirens blaring, and Jensen pulls back against the brick wall of the hospital.

He closes his eyes against the non-stop noise of the city and for a moment wishes they were back at Hornwood, getting in line for dinner. It’s meatloaf night which is Jensen’s favorite.

“We can’t stay here,” Jared whispers. 

Jensen opens his eyes and Jared appears as upset as he is. His eyes are wild and he is dodging away from people walking by on the sidewalk. Suddenly it makes sense. Each person Jared would come in contact would be a drain on his power. All these strangers would transfer their fears and insecurities, even their physical injuries to Jared, and he would have no choice but to take them on. 

Jensen grabs Jared’s hand and grits his teeth, parting the crowd as they move away from the worst of the noise down a dark side street. As they walk along, it becomes less and less crowded and Jensen can smell the water as they approach a river at the bottom of a small hill. They emerge at a wrought-iron railing that runs the walkway alongside the water which runs slow and dark below them. Both of them grip the railing, blowing out cold cleansing breaths, as the wind off the water ruffles their hair. Two small boats pass in the channel and honk at each other in greeting.

Jensen’s nerves are on edge. Stopping his medication was a big step but that was in the controlled environment of Hornwood. Here in the city, his head may be clear but the thrumming undercurrent surrounds him and he wants to find a quiet place to hide.

He lets out another breath and gives him time to focus. They made it. They are out and free. At least for the time being.

Jared bumps his shoulder. “Buy you a cup of coffee?” His voice is still a little shaky as he points over at a small diner across the road. A pink neon sign in the window says _Open 24 Hours_ and a yellow one below that claims _Best Coffee In Town!_

“Well, if it’s the Best Coffee, then how can I say no?”

***

They sit in a back booth and watch the other patrons, two men by themselves at the bar eating and an older couple, a husband and wife, sitting across from each other, reading paperback books and dunking tea bags in their white ceramic cups. No one notices them as they sit side by side, their fingers tangling and untangling under the table.

“You boys working the late shift at the hospital?” says the waitress, her blond hair escaping the bobby pins above her ears. She holds up a pot of coffee and Jensen flips his cup over, grateful for the warm liquid after the cold of the river.

Jared looks blankly at her and she smiles and waves at their scrubs. “I got a boy who used to work up at St Eldon’s. He and his friends would walk down here on their breaks too. Want anything to eat?”

Jared shakes his head no but Jensen speaks up. “Do you have some cinnamon rolls?”

“We have the best cinnamon rolls, hon.”

Jensen bumps his knee against Jared’s under the table. “We’ll split one.” 

She nods and goes behind the counter, lifting a glass cake lid to reach the pastries underneath, cutting one of the plate-sized rolls in half. When she comes back and sets the roll down, she watches Jared’s face with concern and before he can pull away, she pats his shoulder and Jared’s goes from tired to pale in no time.

“Oh,” she says quietly and steps back. One hand reaches up to rub at her neck and her eyes go wide as she palpitates her fingers along the knobs of her spine. Emotions flicker across her face and she glances once more at Jared before hustling away through the kitchen doors.

“Are you okay?” Jensen says. “Jay?”

He never gave much thought to why Jared was at Hornwood. An empath’s powers can only help people, not hurt them. Jared wasn’t at the Institute to protect other people - it was for his own safety. Living in a city with hundreds or thousands of people, each one of them wearing their emotions and their pain on the surface of their skin, and Jared could soak it all in with a touch. It must be a nightmare. 

As he watches, Jared cringes when he tries to twist his neck. He finally realizes that what he has to offer Jared - limitless energy - is just as important as the peace and control that Jared brings to him. He brings his hand up again to touch Jared’s chest and charge up his system but the other man grabs his wrist. Their eyes meet and Jared shakes his head and then looks around the diner at the other customers. 

“You can’t. Not in public. That’s the way they’ll find us.”

Jensen drops his hand to the table. “So what do we do? We can’t stay here.”

Jared takes a long shaky drink from the water glass and Jensen tears off a piece of the roll. It’s big but the icing is not as good as the ones they serve at Hornwood. He thinks about the eggs and the coffee and his own bed back at the facility.

“We can’t go back. You know that, right?” Jared peaks out from where his hair hangs down in his face, reading Jensen like a book.

Jared doesn’t look well and Jensen feels a pang of anger bloom in his chest. If he could put up a wall to protect Jared from the world, he would build it brick by brick with his own hands. Instead, he turns his attention back to the coffee mug to stop him from touching Jared and giving him what he needs right here.

“I know.” 

Jared tears off another piece of the roll. “I have an aunt - she was always good to me - maybe she can help us some way.”

Silence settles over them. Their waitress peeks out from the kitchen a few minutes later, her face careful and confused as she looks at Jared. The older couple down the row has looked up from their books and are laughing about something one of them said. The two are happy and comfortable together, unafraid of what the future holds. 

That’s what he wants with Jared. To get far away, someplace quiet where no one would ever find them--

He squeezes Jared’s hand under the table. “I have an idea.”

\-----

There aren’t purple finches in the mountains. Instead, there are black-capped chickadees. They’re cute little things with shiny black eyes and fluffy white breasts with sound off a three-note whistle as they flit around the tree branches. Sometimes when Jensen sits on the porch, he puts out crusts of stale bread crumbling them on the edge of the porch but today, he filled a plate with some bird seed. The chickadees were leery of him the first few weeks but now three months later, they’ve accepted him as part of their landscape.

There is a bang behind him as the front door slams and the birds fly off to a nearby pine tree and chitter unhappily.

A warm hand falls on his shoulder and he looks up at Jared. His hair, which was shaggy and long to begin with, has grown out and now curls softly against his neck. Jensen offers to cut it for him but isn’t too disappointed when Jared declines the offer.

Jared sits down besides him and nods his head at the bird seed abandoned at the end of the porch. “Leave that out and the squirrels will eat it.” 

Jensen shrugs and picks up the coffee cup at his feet which has now gone cold. He wraps his hands around the ceramic mug and his hands glow as he heats the liquid inside. It’s taken a long time to develop that kind of control and now Jared barely needs to step in to help pull him back.

Jared settles next to him, putting his back against the rough wood wall of the cabin, closing his eyes. Something is bothering him. Jensen could sense it, a place he couldn’t reach and heal when they made love last night. He waits, knowing that if Jared wants to say something to give him time.

The chickadees are back at the seed, making a mess on the wood boards of the porch.

“I talked to my aunt last night,” Jared says. “She left a message on the cell that I listened to when I went to town yesterday. She got a visit from Division.”

Jensen stiffens. His previous dreams of fire and destruction are now replaced each night by images of the two of them on the run. 

“And?” When Jared doesn’t move or open his eyes, Jensen shakes his arm. 

“And she told them that she talked to me a few weeks back and that we planned to head home to Texas.”

Jensen leans back next to Jared against the bark of the log cabin and blows out a breath. “So we have time?”

“Not much. They won’t stop looking.”

“I’m not afraid anymore,” Jensen says, holding his palms out. “I’ve been practicing.”

A sphere of twisting gold grows between his hands, starting small like the size of a golf ball and expanding until it is the size of a basketball, hovering above his outstretched hand a few inches. The heat is palpable but contained underneath the smooth surface for a few minutes until small flares begin to lick out into the air.

Jared lays his fingers around Jensen’s wrist and the flames calm, folding back into the writhing ball which is now a deep yellow color.

“If they come for us, I’ll be ready.” Jensen looks over into Jared’s eyes where the blue-green hazel is hidden by the fire’s reflection. “I won’t lose my family or my home again.”


End file.
